Solar Flare
by Glyndwr
Summary: Princesses shouldn’t laugh in the heat of battle, shouldn’t carry the banner of their kingdom and princesses, certainly, did not defy their mothers. The New Stella knew better, though. Stellacentric, AU


AN: This is just a random idea that popped into my head one very, very early morning. I suppose its set somewhere between the second and third seasons.

Warnings: AUness, OOC Stella, dark(ish)

* * *

"Being a princess is all about having fun!" she used to whine to her parents, rolling her eyes heavenward, whenever they criticized the way she was acting. Little Stella, as she had taken to calling her old self, believed this thoroughly, with all her heart. Princesses shouldn't cry. Princesses shouldn't watch blood drip steadily from their older sister's throat, shouldn't laugh in the heat of battle, shouldn't carry the banner of their kingdom and princesses, certainly, did not defy their mothers. The New Stella knew better, though. She was her father's daughter after all.

Little Stella had played catch and dolls with her oldest, and closest, siblings, Artemis and Solaris. She lived in a rose-tinted world, and even when her parents spoke only in arguments, when sibling disputes turned to violence, when her mother and father hired their own guard (and both the Eclipse and Sunlight Guards came to blows half the time), Little Stella had ignored it all.

Little Stella had left for Alfea, and told her new found friends that her parents were going through the motions of a "divorce"…it's what they had told her after all. The Army of Decay had come and gone, but the world still seemed bright, glowing. Darkar altered her life, surely, but how could he have done _this_ much damage to her perceptions, to her wonderful, glowing, rosy world?

Red-golden light began to flicker in through the window panes.

Someone pounded on the door. "Princess Stella!"

New Stella recognized the voice. "You can come in, captain," she said smoothly.

A young, white-haired man barged into the room, panting, his bloody left arm hanging limply at his side, and his right hand clutching a sword. "Princess Stella, your mother, the Queen Nyx, has told me to tell you that we are leaving the city."

Stella raised an eyebrow, and fingered her ring. "Mother is going to leave Solaria, then. I suppose Uncle Isis will harbor her and my siblings for an indefinite amount of time, correct?"

"How did you—?"

"Mother would send me to Alfea."

Father wouldn't. Stella knew that. If he could have, he would have sent her to Red Fountain. "No heir of mine will go about not knowing how to defend themselves," he had stated to his wife when she decided that Stella was going to Alfea. Her mother won the argument, obviously, but only because Red Fountain was an all boys school.

Stella looked back at the hanging picture of her friends there, all smiles and laughs, and she found herself longing wistfully for that former ignorant innocence, wishing herself into that picture, with Flora, Musa, Tecna and…Bloom. And why couldn't she live in her rose-tinted world again?

"Princess Stella, we have to leave now," the captain said insistently.

Brown eyes landed on a different frame, though, and she found herself staring into the warm eyes of Solaris, who she knew was loyal to her father; her oldest brother who would willingly give his heart and soul for him, if their father asked it of him. And her second oldest sister, Artemis, whose eyes, their mother's eyes, glittered silver as she held onto a two-year-old Stella's hand, who hated their mother with a passion. And her father towered over the three of them (her other siblings hadn't been in that picture, she remembered), warm golden brown eyes shining with the light of the sun, his brown beard neatly groomed, smiling as if they were worth all the world.

"Captain," she said loftily, "tell my mother that she and I will not likely speak for a few years."

"Princess, what are you saying?"

"I am the heiress to the kingdom of _Solaria_, not the kingdom of Lunelle. My duties lie here with my father, Artemis, Solaris, and all the people who live here. So, captain, please be kind enough to give my mother, and all my other siblings, my farewell and well wishes, and that, if _they_ continue this war, we not likely see each other, on civil terms, for several years."

"Milady!" the captain hissed. "But—your lady mother! She said…"

"Captain, you have been like a brother to me, always there when Soli and father weren't able to be, but I cannot protect you if you are caught here. Not unless you want to stay, and you won't want to, not with Fiona and 'Lissa having already left."

The man stared at her, mouth agape. "But, princess, please!"

"You are dismissed, captain," New Stella said firmly, whilst Little Stella reeled with shock.

Little Stella would have turned around and shouted for the captain to come back, that she would go with him to her mother, to try and bring some sense into this madness, but New Stella simply stared at the pictures on the wall as the captain's hurried footsteps trailed down the long corridor.

Stella picked up a golden tiara, engraved with the symbol of rising sun, and set it on her head, leaving the glistening silver crown on its purple pillow.

"Princess Stella!"

The shout garnered her attention. "Yes, Captain Tristan?"

A different man—an older, scarred, more well-worn man, entered the room, a glowing golden crest, now blood-stained, on his chest. "Your father requests your presence in five minutes. We must find a way to stop these riots."

"Tell him I'll be right down, Captain Tristan," she said smoothly, while standing up.

Tristan nodded. "My men and I will be serving as an escort. We caught one of the traitors a few moments ago: he has been dealt with."

"Good."

The captain left the room, but Stella paused at the doorway and took in one final glance at her friends' picture. "I'm sorry."

She turned away without a backward glance.

* * *


End file.
